


Softness

by direhund



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Heartshipping, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, They Tried, altho there was an attempt, if you tilt your head and squint a little anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direhund/pseuds/direhund
Summary: Losing people is bitter, and sometimes talking about it doesn't even help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i started thinking about this sort of thing in the middle of the night while i was having a major depressive episode so writing it seemed like a really good idea

“I wanna be soft,” he whispers, fingers lacing gently with the other’s. It doesn’t make sense, but he doesn’t know how else to word his longing for the ill feeling rooted down in his very bones to be gone. He weaves them together tight and clinging, like it’s a lifeline and Ryou’s drowning. He is drowning, he thinks. He can’t breathe; he’s floundering for some kind of purchase against the swells and swirls of his emotions and finding nothing but emptiness under his feet.

“I just want to get better,” he murmurs, voice atremble. His lungs are shaking. Each inhale, wrought with a struggle to stay calm, quivers at the edge of a gasp. “And stay better,” he manages to finish. Ryou leans forward, closer to his companion, staring unseeing at the grains of the polished wood table between them. Yuugi leans forward too, till their foreheads touch and their hair curls together like their fingers.

“You can be,” he says gentle, reassuring. Ryou closes his eyes and grits his teeth behind his lips. His next breath is stuttered and barely contained.

“I don’t know how. It’s so empty all the time; I don’t ever know what to do with myself anymore,” he argues, voice breaking with hiccups.

“I know,” Yuugi replies, and he does. He knows better than anyone. Sometimes Ryou’s not sure he _understands_ \-- the Thief King _hurt_ him and _used_ him, and sometimes he still wants him _back_ \-- but he can always trust that he _knows_ what he’s going through. The absence of the spirits who passed weighs heavily on them both. Yuugi squeezes his hand, an anchor against his angry mind’s sea.

“You just have to keep going. You have to remember we’re all here for you. That you aren’t him and you don’t need him to exist,” Yuugi tells him, soft but firm. Resolute. Ryou thinks he must tell himself the same thing over and over. His heart hurts for him, who was so much closer to Atem in a sweet-mannered way Ryou never was with the Thief King.

“I wish I could forget him and everything else,” Ryou whispers hoarsely. He doesn’t see Yuugi cringe, but he feels it. He knows why. Yuugi doesn’t offer his somber agreement this time, but he is sympathetic.

“One day you won’t think about it anymore. Not ever again,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a promise. Ryou squeezes his eyes shut tighter, brow furrowing. He can’t imagine it. He was so young when he met the spirit; when he first picked up that cursed ring. The spirit all but shaped him. He was so much a part of him, he barely knew who he was without him.

“I know it’s hard,” Yuugi continues, “It’s like… There’s a hole, yeah? In your chest, or your stomach, or something…”

“I just feel sick all the time,” Ryou laments, raising his head to nod in agreement. He looks at Yuugi at the same time his violet eyes flick open, wide and full of grief.

“I know. You just… Have to fill it with other stuff. With games and friends and schoolwork. It doesn’t really go away. I’ll never stop missing him, but moving on at least helps it feel less…” Yuugi trails off, trying to think of the word.

“Gaping?” Ryou offers flatly, disentangling their fingers to claw tears away from his cheeks. Yuugi’s mouth twists with a wry attempt at a smile, and he folds his arms in front of him. It doesn’t move his face or warm his eyes like it should.

“Yeah, sure. I just... I mean it’s gonna be okay.” He reaches out to touch Ryou’s arm in solidarity, and his narrowed brown eyes track the ends of his fingertips across the table until they just barely brush his sleeve. His reaction is lightning quick -- he jerks back and lashes out, slapping Yuugi’s hand away.

“No. No, it won’t. You don’t get it.” His wet eyes and red face don’t take away from the bitterness in his expression. He takes a shuddering breath. “You don’t get it, Yuugi, I shouldn’t even feel the way I feel about it; it doesn’t make any sense! It’s messed up and it’s worse than just--” The shrill protest of Yuugi’s chair across the kitchen tile as he stands startles Ryou silent.

“Yeah, maybe I don’t get it. You should be happy all this is over. That he isn’t here anymore. At least _your_ life is _better off_ that way,” Yuugi all but snarls, wounded and nasty and he’s finally broken too, eyes shining above new tear tracks. Ryou leans away, staring back at him dazedly. Real rage out of Yuugi is such a jarring thing. He’s usually so soft and gentle, but can possess a viciousness about him when pressed that was only rivalled by Atem. Silence stretches tautly between them, achingly fragile. Yuugi deflates a little, shoulders falling in a ragged sort of way like his anger took everything out of him. His breath hitches.

“Mine’s just empty now.” His fingers twitch; he steps back and drops back into the chair, staring at them like they aren’t even is. He probably wishes they weren’t.

“Sorry,” he whispers. Ryou shakes his head.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay thanks for making it through that; i hope it wasn't too terrible ;w;


End file.
